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 Raff awoke on his back, his brother leaning over him.

"Oh," Ash said. "You're not dead."

Raff's mouth tasted metallic, his head fogged and ringing, as if he was underwater. He couldn't breathe — a clogging pressure building behind his nose — so he sniffed, attempting to clear it.

There was a sudden, burning pain in the centre of his face. He cursed, and swiftly sat up.

***

Raff awoke on his back once more, his brother still leaning over him. His whole head throbbed.

"Still not dead?"

This time, Raff did not get up. "No."

"You broke your nose."

Raff paused. He remembered the game, Lily's unsteady countdown, her shouts of glee. He recalled, through a haze, galloping across the yard, his brother's determined face and the broomstick clutched in his steady grasp. He reached out across the dirt; his own makeshift lance must have rolled from his grip when he fell.

"You broke my nose," he scowled.

Ash shrugged. "You should have dodged."

Raff sighed, squeezing his eyes shut. He could feel blood bubbling over his top lip, foaming as he tried to breathe.

"Where is Lily?" 

"She ran to fetch father."

Raff's eyes snapped open. "Oh no."

"Indeed." Ash's face vanished, and his hand swam into view. "Get up, then. Or he'll think I really did kill you."

Raff grabbed his hand and allowed Ash to pull him unsteadily to his feet. He swayed a little, head spinning, nose burning.

"So," Ash said, as Raff leant wobbling against him. "When Father asks, we shall tell him—"

"Ashwy Griffin Barden, what in God's name is going on out here?"

Ash set his feet. "—we'll tell him it was your idea."

Art by Srapsodia, who you can find on tumblr here!